


Another World

by Darkenedrosepetals



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Sickness, Time Travel, Transforming, Very Slight Movie Verse, change, miss peregrine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkenedrosepetals/pseuds/Darkenedrosepetals
Summary: When a darker force threatens the safety of her children, Miss Peregrine must rise to the occasion to defend her children and understand a world she has never known. But what happens when this unknown world challenges everything she believes in? [Movie Verse]/AU





	1. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Hello there. Welcome to 'Another World'. This fiction will be loosely based on the movie verse, but will be pretty AU as well. I do hope you all enjoy! Thank you for dropping by.

" _Faster_ " the word echoed in Alma's mind as she soared through the dark skies. She was injured but she wouldn't dare stop. She feared for her children who were sound asleep in their home. Her body shivered at the thought but she pressed harder.

In the distance, she could see the puff of smoke from the chimney of her home. To her relief the highest window was slightly a jar and the light was on. Enoch was awake! She squawked, hoping her oldest charge would hear her. She twisted sharply to avoid the arrow coming from below and ended up crashing awkwardly on the glass pane on the roof. The wind was knocked out of her as she commanded forth her human form.

She slid off the glass and was thankful that it didn't break under her weight. But she faltered when she felt a wound just under her collarbone. She could feel two sets of hands on her arms helping to balance her.

"We heard you Miss Peregrine," Olive said quickly. The redhead had felt a chill grip her spine when she heard the familiar cry of her beloved Ymbryne. Something was deeply wrong and to see her fall from falcon form to human was frightening. Miss Peregrine was never ungraceful when it came to changing forms.

"Wake the children," Alma rasped. Her throat was dry and she was still winded from her flight and landing.  _"_ Have them put on their coats and shoes and meet downstairs _"_  She ignored the stinging in her chest and beckoned the teenagers inside. Enoch frowned but remained silent and rushed down the hallway after Olive towards the bedrooms.

Alma stumbled to her bedroom, pulled on her boots, grabbed her coat and crossbow. Her heart was racing as she strapped the weapon to her body and grabbed the extra bolts. She exited her bedroom and raced down the stairs. Several sets of frightened eyes turned in her direction.

"We must leave," Alma leaned to fix the collar of Hugh's coat. "We have exactly ten minutes. Bronwyn dear, I require your assistance in opening the secret door."

Bronwyn pushed aside the couch and shoved aside the rug. She pulled the latch to the large door to reveal a stairwell. She looked back expectantly to Miss Peregrine for further instructions.

"Quietly and quickly proceed down the stairwell. Enoch, you will go first." Alma nudged Claire forward. "I will follow you all. Do not stop until you reach the end"

Enoch grabbed the hanging Lantern, to which Olive quickly lit and descended to the lower level of the house. The rest of the children followed obediently without question. Bronwyn waited patiently, knowing that she would have to close the door. In a matter of moments, she stepped down with Miss Peregrine and pulled the door closed and placed the heavy barricade across it and sprinted to catch up with the others.

Alma swiped at the sweat on her forehead, noting that her hand shook slightly. The throbbing in her chest had intensified in the short while of being inside the house as well. But instead of focusing on her discomfort, she calculated the time of their escape. She knew that in exactly seven minutes they would arrive at the second door that led outside. The short trek would allow them a head start.  _At least she hoped._

Even with her heightened senses, she couldn't hear anything other than the soft humming of bees inside of Hugh, Emma's rhythmic footfalls and the precise ticking of her pocket watch.

_Tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick._

The normally comforting sound was more like a ticking bomb. The fear that churned in her belly made her feel like retching but she could not slow down. She hadn't felt fear like this since Victor ran away.

"Are we almost there?" Claire's tiny voice whispered.

"Shh…" Enoch glanced over his shoulder.

Alma hated not being able to explain the situation to her children, but in all honesty, she didn't know it fully herself. Everything was happening so quickly.

' _The children had just turned in for the night. Alma had closed herself in her bedroom, kicked her off heels and sank into the cushions of her loveseat. It had been a particularly long day. The children had been restless. She supposed it be because they experienced the brutal winter for the first time in almost eighty years. They weren't used to having shorter days and longer nights_

_Alma sat up suddenly and glanced to the window. Normally she opted to fly during the day, but the night was clear and the moon was out. She itched to feel the wind against her feathers as she soared through the dark skies as she viewed the quiet town from far above. It had been months since she last assumed bird form._

_She pushed to her feet and opened the window. The brisk winter air caressed her skin and called to her senses. She stepped backward a few paces and stretched out her arms. She closed her eyes and summoned the bird from within. Feathers sprouted along her arms and down her sides as her nose began to elongate. She felt her senses sharpen to that of a falcon. In a matter of moments, she was fully transformed and sitting on the ledge of the open window. She blinked a few times as she took in the world below. She wouldn't be out long. Just that of an hour before returning._

_And she was off._

_Alma soared through the sky, carefree. If it wasn't for her lack of speech she would have laughed out loud. Instead, she cawed and flew faster. After a while, she perched for a bit of rest in a tree. She noticed that it was unnaturally quiet. She scanned the area, feeling her instincts tell her that something was off. She couldn't see anything but she knew that someone was there._

_Then she heard it. The first of many howls._

_She instantly took to the air for escape. But not before a dart pierced her flesh. She slowed but kept flying.'_

Bronwyn pushed open the second door, which took a bit of effort since it was covered with much dirt. Alma quickly followed her children up the stairs to the stand on the very edge of their property. She carefully took in their surroundings but saw that they were alone for the time being.

Enoch made eye contact with his mistress and nodded as he understood where they needed to go to. Silently he led them to an empty alley behind an old warehouse. Old packaging littered the area and broken glass was everywhere. It wasn't the most exciting place for entering and exiting the loop but it served its purpose.

Alma paused in front of the doors. She touched the door and grabbed her pocket watch. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. What she was about to do was out of the ordinary. Something that she hadn't done since she was a youth.

"Children, I need you to close your eyes," she whispered softly. She turned her back and closed her own eyes. The power within her core began to uncoil as she summoned it forth. Not to transform but to use it in a different manner. It left her achy, and awfully aware of the sensations in her body. The prickling of sweat against her temples, constriction in her throat, and the cold weight of her pocket watch in her palm.

" _Stop"_  Alma whispered to no one. She opened her eyes to find that everything around her was frozen in place. Her body trembled, but she steadied her hand. She willed time to fast forward instead of backward. She gritted her teeth, as a wave of nausea rolled over her. The urge to retch was stronger than before. But she resisted and focused on the ticking of her pocket watch.

_Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick_

Alma gasped for air as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees. She blinked back tears and straightened. She pushed open the door of the warehouse and gestured for her children to enter. They were hesitant at first but with gentle encouragement, they all stepped inside.


	2. Fear and Pain

Alma was never one to do things without a plan or a reason. Spontaneous was not a well-used word in her vocabulary. Living on looped time required a set routine. But ever since the unfortunate event of Mr. Barron finding their location, spontaneous was the new normal. It had been three years and she still felt like she was behind on time. Still looking over her shoulder, wondering if and when they would have to flee again. She hoped that they wouldn't. She liked to think that the threat of the Hollows was over. But deep inside she knew that it wasn't so.

' _Alma, watched her beloved children sail in their recovered ship, with swirls of emotions. First with Pride, knowing that her children with the quick thinking of Jake were able to defeat their foes and survive. Second, with fear, knowing that if they hadn't been swift or if Barron had succeeded in his plan, she would be dead and her children would be exposed and vulnerable to the world._

_Despite Jake's Solemn promise, she feared that somehow, they would perish. And lastly, she felt utter shame. Ashamed that she was foolish and wasn't careful with her letters to Abe. If she had been more careful, Abe wouldn't have been tracked, his death wouldn't have been premature. It was her fault for staying in the same loop for so long. Thinking, that being tucked away in their seemingly perfect home was the best. Ashamed that she was selfish and refused to look past herself and overbearing duties of keeping her children 'safe.' It was why Victor fled. He longed to be like Abe, to venture outside the loop. He had become tired of living in repeat. All her children had. Especially the older ones. She braced herself for the day they would also try and leave._

_She felt her eyes sting as she favored her dislocated arm. She breathed slowly and pushed aside her self-pity to call forth her second form. It was difficult, given her injury but she pushed past the pain and allowed the change to take over. She followed after the sailing ship.'_

Alma swallowed the thick lump in her throat and focused her attention on the present. They had been walking for almost twenty minutes after leaving the warehouse. It was still night time, which she intended when she fast-forwarded. She felt the effects of her manipulation the longer she walked. Fortunately, the cold had slowed the bleeding wound in her chest. She knew if she wore brighter clothing, there would a blossom of red above her breast.

"Miss Peregrine, are we there yet?" Emma folded her arms to her body. She despised complaining, but her feet were freezing in her lead boots. Even though she wore socks the cold air penetrated to her very bones.

"As a matter of fact, we are," Alma paused in front of a tall iron gate and fished a key ring from her coat pocket. To which she picked a designated key and made quick work of the gate. She pulled the crossbow from around her and loaded it. She moved carefully with her senses peeled and scanned the area, paying special attention to the shadows of the bare trees.

Satisfied that nothing lurked, she unlocked the front door of the dark house and ushered the children inside. She locked all four deadbolts on the door and flipped on the switch. The Living room was bathed in soft light, revealing sheet-covered furniture. There was also a fireplace, with chopped firewood ready to go.

"Alright," Alma laid the crossbow on the table. "We'll have to work together to get warm for the night. We'll need to start a fire and prepare a space for us all to sleep."

"What do you need for us to do Miss Peregrine?" Fiona asked.

"I'll need some of you to gather blankets and pillows from the hallway which is the first door on the right" Alma then turned to the older charges. "A fire will need to be started for warmth. And the sheets will need to be pulled from the couches."

The children nodded and moved to carry out their tasks. Fiona, Hugh, Millard, and Bronwyn ventured down the hall, while Claire, the twins, and Horace pulled the sheets off the couches. Emma and Enoch arranged the firewood in the fireplace, to which afterward Olive lit eagerly. Instant warmth could be felt from the new flames.

Alma moved to the kitchen to prepare something hot to help chase the chill away. She opened the stocked pantry and pulled out the supplies she needed. She was a stickler for fresh food, but given the circumstance canned was just as good.

In the living room, she could hear the children chatting amongst themselves as they made sleeping pallets. She heard their many questions and even visualized the causal shrug that would be given by Enoch. She smirked when she thought of the older boy's usual nonchalant demeanor. He was never one for excitement or surprises.

Olive entered the kitchen with one of her gloves removed, ready to heat whatever that was needed. Alma smiled at the girl's eagerness to help. She gestured to the stove where the tea kettle and the stock spot waited.

The redhead flattened her palms against the rounded sides of the tea kettle first and focused her energy to heating it. She did the same for the stock pot as well. When finished she tugged on her gloves and help prepared hot chocolate for the other children.

"Miss Peregrine what happened tonight?" Olive asked while stirring in one of the mugs.

Alma paused from pouring hot water into one of the empty mugs. She regarded the question, not really knowing how to answer it fully. She knew they were out of immediate danger, but for how long she did not know. "Someone was after me while I was out flying. I could not see who but I knew that they meant us harm."  _I could feel them._

"Was it a Hollow?" Olive's soft tone was laced with worry.

"I do not know," Alma huffed. She doubted that whatever shot her was a Hollow. Almost on cue, the wound made itself known and began to throb. She gripped the kettle tighter.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Olive. She leaned closer to the older woman. "Were you attacked?"

Alma thought about keeping her wound a secret but decided against it. She would have to see to it eventually. "I was shot with a dart of some sort. It fell out when I was flying."

Olive's eyes widened.

"I will tend to it later," Alma answered before the girl could panic. "Let us finish getting settled in."

XXXX

Alma excused herself into one of the bathrooms once the children were warmed and comfortable. She gathered her medical supplies from the cabinet and clean cloths. Hot water was ready in the basin, filling the bathroom with delicious steam. She shrugged off her overcoat, and carefully removed her jacket and blouse, to reveal the wound to her eyes for the first time.

There were thin crooked wispy black lines that surrounded an angry puncture mark. If one was to see it from afar it would look like a spider had woven its web against her pale skin. She dampened one of the cloths and gently swiped away the blood. She leaned closer to the mirror when her sharp eyes noticed that something was still impaled under her skin.

Alma swallowed a curse when she prodded the tender area with her nail. Her first thought was to call Enoch for assistance given extraction was one of his specialties. But between her state of undress and not wanting to further worry him, she prepared herself to remove it. She fished out the tweezers and with a strike of a match, she sanitized it. She cringed at the thought of digging into her skin with the heated metal but went on with it.

Searing pain radiated across her chest causing her eyes to water. She blinked back tears, shoved one of the cloths in her mouth and focused on removing the bit from her wound. The stench and sizzle of flesh turned her stomach but she again resisted the urge to retch.

At last, she grasped the bit with the tweezers. A small moan escaped, as she wiped away the fresh blood. Now that the hardest part was over she began dressing the wound. She had done the tasks countless of times for her children over the years but it was foreign to perform it on herself. She was no stranger to cuts and bruises but it was not to say she was used to them.

Alma's limbs felt shaky, and her skin felt as if a million hairy spiders crawled across it. There was heat within her body like a fever and a chill across her skin at the same time.  _She felt fine earlier in the evening._

She held up the small bit that was now in a jar. At first, she thought it was a remnant of the dart that remained after falling from her flesh. But now, she was sure that it was something else. Her simple explanation became much more complex.

XXXX

Simon walked the hallway of the large home that belonged to the Ymbryne. Several of the doors were open, revealing disheveled beds. He was not surprised by the sight. After all, he was the reason they fled.

He laid and waited in the woods every day for the Ymbryne to assume her second form. He was a patient man, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist the temptation forever. It was a part of her peculiarity.

Tonight, he spotted her bird form ascend from her bedroom window into the night. The thrill of chase prickled against his skin but he waited. He didn't move an inch until she was high in the sky without a care in the world.

Simon entered the Ymbryne's bedroom with his eyelids shut and his nostrils flared. Her scent lingered in the room like Jasmine blooming during a summer's night. Vanilla, black licorice, and burley. But his favorite of note was the strongest of them all.

Fear.

Only he could smell that sweet fragrance in the atmosphere. It excited and called to his most inner desires. He grinned and opened his eyes to grab the lone brush from the dresser. Delicate strands of deep indigo, silver and midnight black were woven in the bristles. He sealed the tool into a plastic bag and tucked it away in his satchel. No matter the urge to rummage through the Ymbryne's belongings, he resisted with a turn of his heel and exited. He had not the time. His master was awaiting his return.

Downstairs Simon held a device the size of a pack of cigarettes and turned the dial. He then punched in the year and slid his lids closed once more. No matter how many times he used his savvy creation, he couldn't stomach the process.

"2017 here I come," he said to no one.


	3. Life and Death

A bright twinkling of lights around a figure illuminated the darkened corridor. The figure stretched in every direction like a rubber band before solidifying to become a short, scrawny man.

Simon shivered as if terribly cold and scowled deeply. He loved and hated time travel with an equal passion. He shrugged off his coat and turned on the light in his laboratory. He was glad to be back in his workspace after being gone for so long. He moved around the room and switched on his various systems and paused in front of the tracking screen that was riddled with blinking dots.

Simon cursed under his breath and slammed the keyboard. The signal implanted in the Ymbryne had disappeared. He drummed his fingers across the keyboard searching for information of the last transmission of the signal.

According to the system's readings, the last location of the Ymbryne was less than two miles away from her home. Strangely, before the signal moved, she seemed to have lingered in the same general location for approximately ten minutes, which could not have been possible. He would have seen them.  _Unless..._

A lopsided smile spread on Simon's face. The woman was ever so clever. At first, her swift escape baffled him. There was no car, no horse-buggy, so he was certain they would walk. His first assumption was that her loop's exit was nearby, so she had no fear in reaching it without a way of transportation. But now he understood.

A secret passage.

He would have laughed if he hadn't felt incredibly stupid. Why hadn't he thought to search the entire house? They were under his feet the entire time.

Simon paused from his musing as a familiar scent teased his nostrils. Rain, balsam, and fresh pine, a scent that called to him. He whirled around in his chair to find his master standing in his laboratory.

"Sir," he stood in reverence.

Jasper Woodson to the unsuspecting eye appeared no older than forty. He moved forward with a gracefulness that only he could muster. He was weightless, even in his slow stride. For a moment Simon like felt prey being stalked by a predator.

"It is good to have you back," Jasper said, eyes darting over him and then to the screen. "I gather you were successful?"

Simon swallowed nervously and said. "The Ymbryne fled with her children, but I have a clue as to where they went." He reached into his satchel for the hairbrush. "But for the time being, I have what I need to continue my work."

Jasper folded his arms over his chest. He seemed satisfied with enough with his answer. Though his body was present, his mind seemed to be elsewhere. There was an invisible weight pressing on his shoulders.

Now that Simon's full attention was on his master, he noted that his skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat. His attire was a simple fitted long sleeve shirt with a pair of light grey sweatpants that was slung low on his hips. He wore no shoes. His eyes glowed brilliantly while his jaw was clenched. Signs that he had indeed been out in the night.

Goosebumps prickled across Simon's flesh. There was something wrong. "Sir?"

"Taylor." Jasper's voice was tight as if it pained him to say the name. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

Simon opened his mouth once, closed it and opened it again but nothing came out. He could taste the sorrow now, and it was a bitterness to his tongue. Finally, he said, "When?"

"Three hours ago," Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose. "Everyone is upstairs."

Taylor was Jasper's was wife. She had fallen ill to a virus, one that was specially formulated to kill their kind. A virus that was harmless to mere humans but was a death sentence to them. A slow, ugly disease that robbed them of their senses, and devoured their bodies.

The virus was so far incurable, no matter what they tried. They were growing desperate as the virus was wiping out their people. Traditional human medicine masked symptoms, only making the sufferer comfortable, but none the less they deteriorated until death stole them away.

It was why the Ymbrynes were important to them now.  _Why_  this Ymbryne he shot tonight was especially important.

When the virus first struck their people, he searched high and low for ways for a cure. Even with his vast knowledge he still fell short. But when he crossed paths with the insane peculiar Barron and his quest for immortality, he decided to follow in his footsteps.

Simon clinched the bagged brush in his hand. He knew his task of finding a cure was daunting but now it almost seemed unreachable. But he couldn't be fearful now. Too much was at stake and depended on his success.

XXXX

_Later the following day…_

Alma watched some of her younger charges entertain themselves in the living room. Fiona and Bronwyn were playing hand games, while Millard and Hugh were playing a game of chess. It was a comfort to see the children content as if nothing transpired the previous night. She did her best to explain their sudden move without causing them to further fear but ended up changing the subject by showing them around their new home and to their own bedrooms.

Enoch made it a point to question her when they were alone. He was worried about her wellbeing after learning from Olive that she suffered an injury. She assured him that was she was alright and that he didn't need to worry. Of course, the solemn young man regarded his mistress with uncertainty but let the matter be. Instead, he turned his questioning elsewhere.

"Whose house is this Miss Peregrine?" Enoch asked.

Alma sipped her tea that had long grown cold. She thought of the kind elderly man she met three years ago. She met him one afternoon at the market in the town. "It used to belong to a friend of mine."

"A friend of Abe?" Enoch sneered.

"No," Alma smiled sadly. She hadn't spoken of the man to anyone. "His name was Zerrick, although he preferred to be called Rick. He was a kind soul, a peculiar that ran away from the care of his Ymbryne many decades before." In a strange way he resembled Victor, she realized after visiting him one day.

Enoch's brow furrowed at his Mistress. He could hear the wistfulness in her tone. "What happened to him?"

"He passed away."

"I'm sorry," he said slowly.

Alma toyed with the charm of her pocket watch. The cool metal was a small relief to her feverish skin. "Zerrick left this house to me in his will."

"He had no family?"

"I do not know. He never told me."

Enoch was uncomfortable now with this new found knowledge. It made sense now, where his Mistress would venture off to every day. He shared a theory with Olive that she had a secret lover, which made the fire-starter blush beet red into her gloved hands. It made her uncomfortable to think of their Mistress in that manner. But he insisted that was the case since she would always return in happier spirits than she left.

Alma chuckled at his uneasiness. "We merely shared conversation over hot tea and biscuits. Nothing more."

Enoch cleared his throat as his cheeks burn with bright crimson. "Right. I think I'll go and get settled in my room now."

Alma continued to chuckle at Enoch's hasty exit. The topic of Zerrick was a welcomed distraction but short-lived as the wound on her chest came to life. It ached fiercely, reminding her that she would need to check it soon. But for now, she had to prepare for dinner. She stood only to pause when a way of nausea rolled over her.

"Miss Peregrine?" It was Horace. She noticed that he held his monocle in his hand and he seemed disturbed. Pale as if he saw a ghost.

"What's the matter?" She beckoned him over to sit with her.

Horace who was normally precise with his words was slow to speak. "I-I don't think we can have movie night, tonight. I've had an awful dream."

Alma touched his cheek. Her heart clenched at the fear that still rode him. "It's alright sweetheart," she touched his hair knowing that in this moment he wouldn't mind. "It's just a nightmare."

Horace sighed and held up his monocle. "I need to show you."

There something about the way Horace put emphasis on 'you' that made her nod in agreement. She watched as he prepared to project his dream to the empty wall across from them. He straightened, and with a steady hand fixed the monocle to his eye.

Alma switched off the light and waited for Horace to begin. She gently squeezed his shoulder. It seemed to be the final encouragement that he needed as the room became bathed in soft light.

_The dream began by showing a house that was surrounded by thick woods. It was night time, and the moon was bright. Clearly, it was summer since the windows were pushed open. Singing could be heard, from young girls who danced in circles in the front of one of the windows._

' _London Bridge is falling down,_

_Falling down, falling down._

_London Bridge is falling down,_

_My fair lady._

_They stopped and dropped to the floor in a fit of giggles until their mother appeared in their room._

' _Bedtime,' The woman said earning a unison of 'Aww!' from the girls._

_They obeyed and crawled into their bed. After being tucked in and kissed on the forehead the mother closed the door and switched off the lights._

_The scene morphed and screaming could be heard and wet gurgling. The same window where the girls danced was splattered with blood._

_One of the girls fled from the house with blood stained on her nightgown. She ran as fast as her short legs could take her before stumbling on a fallen branch._

_A stray howl could be heard from the distance. It was enough to stir the girl from her stupor to make her push to her feet. She kept running until she reached the lakeside. The water was clear as it held the reflection of the moon. She swiped at her tears, which did nothing to stop more from falling. She whipped her head in the direction of the howling and then back to the still waters. She sniffled and bunched up her gown and tipped into the lake until she was submerged to her neck. She took a deep breath and disappeared into the water._

_There was silence and then a string of gunshots._

_The girl emerged coughing._

' _Julia!' A man ran through the grass with a gun in hand._

' _Daddy!' she was struggling now to keep her head above the water._

_The dream morphed again to show the same man holding several vials in his hands. He stood outside of a three-story home. He pulled a chain from his neck and opened a picture locket that revealed the two girls and their mother. He kissed the locket and then dropped the vials on to the ground, shattering the glass._

_Lastly, the dream morphed to show Miss Peregrine being pinned down by two men on an examining table. She struggled fiercely with her back arched off the table. Her shoulders began to bunch, and then the crunch of bones could be heard. A blood-curdling scream ripped from her throat as feathers peaked through her flesh._

' _Hold her down!'_

' _We're trying but she's growing stronger' one of the men said._

_Miss Peregrine arms were now fully wings and were extended out by her sides. Nothing else on her body had transformed. She thrust one of the men off and head-butted the other. She pushed clumsily off the table and crumbled to the ground._

The projection ended but the screams still echoed in Alma's mind. She blinked and glanced at Horace who was as still as a statue. She touched his arm, not wanting to startle him since the dream was still very vivid in his mind.

Horace bowed his head and removed the monocle. He turned and looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. After a while, he asked slowly. "Miss Peregrine are we truly safe?"

Being safe was a fickle thing now in the world where monsters were very real. Monsters weren't just fragments of their imaginations or faceless creatures hiding under one's bed. But real beings that lurked around every corner.

"Yes." It was not a lie but it wasn't the whole truth. Right now, it was enough.


	4. The Beginning

For the first time in days, Simon was hopeful. The cells from the Ymbryne was surviving the virus. Albeit not in the way he expected. At first the virus infected the healthy cells, as expected but within a few days, the newly infected cells changed. The virus remained but it was now a part of the healthy cells. It challenged his brilliant mind but in the end, he couldn't find a plausible explanation for it. What mattered was this strange discovery brought him closer to a cure. Hopefully, one that was permeant and could be used as a preventative measure for the future.

Simon sighed and entered the Ymbryne's abandoned house. It was different now that its inhabitants were gone. Now that the loop no longer existed, the house was dull and without life. It still amazed him of the power the woman yielded.

Simon pushed aside the couch and the rug that covered a secret door. Upon opening it, his eyes adjusted to the darkness the further he descended. It wasn't the shortest walk but in a matter of minutes, he stood under the second door. He pushed against the old wood until it gave and dirt poured down from above.

There were overgrown brushes around him but he could see he was standing at the very edge of the property. He referred to his location on his tracking device, noting that it matched exactly where the Ymbryne was before moving. He continued to follow the signal, making sure not to draw attention to himself from the town's people.

Finally, after several minutes of walking, Simon arrived at the last location the Ymbryne was before the signal disappeared. It confused him at first, seeing the deserted warehouse. It was a strange place for a loop entrance but he figured it was perfect since it wouldn't be easily detected.

Simon walked through the warehouse door, expecting the day scenery to change, but it remained the same. He found it strange but continued to cross the empty building until he was on the other side.

There weren't any houses around the immediate area. He had to continue walking before houses could be seen in the distance. The houses were of different sizes, mostly one-story with small yards. He knew in his past life of living in a loop as a peculiar, the houses would be large enough to accommodate multiple children.

Simon's keen ears heard two voices coming from one of the yards of the houses. A male voice and a softer female voice. He pocketed his device and followed while listening to the shared conversation. He soon realized it was two of the Ymbryne's charges. The oldest boy and the red-headed girl with gloves. Enoch and Olive were their names as he remembered from his observation months before.

Excitement hummed through his veins at the discovery. But he contained it for later and crouched behind one of the large tree trunks in the next yard over. It bothered him that there weren't many places to hide and go unnoticed unlike before at their previous property. But with the heaping piles of fallen leaves, and the gentle whistle of wind he was sure they wouldn't notice his presence.

XXXX

_Outside the Peregrine Residence…_

"Isn't it strange Miss Peregrine had a friend that we never knew about?" Enoch snapped a dead branch from one of the bare trees.

Olive twirled one of the dried leaves between her gloved fingers. "Perhaps she didn't think it was necessary to tell us about her friend." She dropped the leave to the ground. "Miss Peregrine has always been private concerning certain things."

"I still think this Zerrick fellow was more than a companion for tea," he scoffed.

"He must have been an older man," Olive reasoned. "She did say Zerrick ran away from his Ymbryne many years before. He could have been your age and then aged."

Enoch disturbed a pile of leaves with the end of the branch. "Do you really believe that Olive?" he turned to the house. "I bet they had a stitch in this very place."

"Enoch!" Olive gasped as blush colored her cheeks. "Miss Peregrine would never…" she stopped when Enoch began to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"You should see your face right now," he chuckled.

Olive lightly slapped his arm. There was smile tugging at her lips. She also studied the house behind them. It resembled their old home back in Cairnholm, except it was smaller and had less greenery, and it had a driveway with evidence there used to be an automobile.

Olive crossed her arms. "I think Zerrick was grateful for Miss Peregrine's company during his last days. And as a 'thank you' he left his home to Miss Peregrine as a gift. Perhaps he was like Horace and knew she would need it in the future."

Silence enveloped around the teenagers as they gazed at the house. The wind whistled around them, causing the leaves to crackle and the lone tree swing to sway. Even the iron gate groaned against the gust.

"Miss Peregrine doesn't like talking about the future," Enoch recalled his Mistress's most enforced house rule. "She doesn't like talking about anything outside her control."

"Enoch…" Olive sighed. The light atmosphere had been replaced by a somber one.

"Miss Peregrine was not shot out of chance. It was done on purpose. And whatever was on that dart made her sick." Enoch pointed out. "There is something going on Olive. Something sinister. And you know it."

Olive thinned her lips. She didn't like where this conversation was going.

Enoch glanced to his left and then to his right. He learned close to Olive and said just above a whisper. "Remember the other day when movie night was canceled?"

Olive nodded. "Miss Peregrine said it was because of a nightmare,"

"I saw Horace show it to her," Enoch glanced over his shoulder as if someone was listening. When Olive frowned he continued. "I was going for a cup of water and I heard them talking. So, I hid and watched."

"And?" she pressed.

Enoch lead them further away from the house in case Miss Peregrine would somehow hear them. He began to retell what he witnessed from beginning to end. The entire time Olive covered her mouth and her eyes were wide with horror.

"Maybe it was just a bad dream," Olive said after a while and hugged herself. "Nothing more."

"We said that the last time," Enoch wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "And guess what? Miss Avocet appeared and so did Barron. We all know what happened after that."

Olive snuggled closer. "So, what are we to do?"

Enoch rested his chin on top of her head. "Time will tell."

XXXX

_Later that Night…_

Alma was spiraled across her bed in only a slip. Sweat had the thin material clinging like a second skin while making her feel like she was drowning. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. No amount of water could quench her thirst. She swallowed and snatched the dampened pillow from under her head. It made her dizzy but she did not care.

Each day, she experienced a new set of internal torture. After dinner the first evening, she experienced weakness in her joints. It was subtle at first. Her hands not wanting to grip the dishes properly or slight difficulty in walking. Nothing that her children would notice but it was a nuisance as it gradually worsened. The second day, she began to have the worst headaches. She tried her best not let the pounding affect her mood but it was nearly impossible with the noise the children constantly made.

The third day her appetite left and was replaced with stomach cramps. During the evening, she doubled over while running bath water for Claire. Her head almost collided with the porcelain which caused Claire to screech. In a matter of moments, Emma burst into the bathroom with Olive close on her heels.

"Are you alright?" Emma shrieked.

Alma rubbed her midsection but nodded. "I just startled Claire that's all."

The fair-haired girl was unconvinced but she didn't press the matter. "Would you like for me to bathe Claire tonight?"

In any other circumstance, Alma would have declined, but the pounding in her temples and the pain in her core prompted her to push from her knees. She turned to Claire who was holding her nightgown in hand. "Emma is going to bathe you tonight,"

"Okay," Claire sounded disappointed.

Alma felt pained to have given in so easily but she was so blasted tired. She squeezed Emma's shoulder and exited the bathroom with Olive right behind her. She winched when another bout of cramps started. She used the wall to keep her balance until the pain subsided and she was able to straighten once more.

"You're not alright," Olive countered as she helped her regain her balance. "You haven't been since we've come here."

The fire starter was right. She was not alright.

The fourth day she experienced spells of dizziness. She couldn't move at her usual speed, or even turn her head without the entire room spinning. It was perhaps one of the more annoying symptoms of her sudden illness. The children, even the younger ones noticed that their Mistress was not herself.

Alma did her best to keep her illness from her children. So far, no one else was showing the same symptoms. Not even so much as a runny nose. Which both relieved and unsettled her at the time. It would be a disaster to have a house full of sick children. It was not uncommon, but it was certainly not welcomed.

But to be sure, she frequently washed her hands and allowed the older charges to cook meals in her place. She wouldn't risk further contaminating their food by handling it. The teens understood and carried out the tasks.

Horace would often cast worried glances in her directions when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew he secretly feared for her wellbeing after having his nightmare. Her current condition didn't help matters either.

Alma pushed her tired frame from the bed and into the bathroom. She peeled off her slip and turned on the shower to the coldest setting and climbed in. She winched when the water drummed against to her bandaged wound but continued to stand under the spray. Once she began to shiver she turned on the hot water. She gingerly massaged the soap into her skin around her wound, and then to the rest of her body. It was a chore, especially when rinsing the soap from her hair. Fortunately, she managed without falling over and she turned off the water.

Before slipping on her bathrobe, she removed the dampened dressing and examined her wound. There were still wispy black lines, and it was still red and tender. She worried that it wasn't healing properly but decided that it was too early to tell. She carefully cleaned the area before applying healing salve and a fresh bandage.

Alma gazed at her reflection in the mirror now that the steam had lessened. The ending of Horace's dream still lingered in her mind. In the beginning, she hadn't entertained the thought of being able to transform only her arms. It was a silly notion to imagine. To see her petite frame with giant wings in place of her arms. Attempting to take flight with people all around, staring in horror. It was impossible. It had to be.

Despite feeling incredibly foolish, she stretched her arms out from her body and wiggled her fingers. She imagined her slender arms elongating to that of a peregrine. Warmth blossomed in her core, and her shoulders began to tingle. Faint prickling traveled down to her forearms and then to the tips of her fingers. The warmth traveled up her spine and lingered at the base of her neck. She tipped her head back and exhaled slowly as the tingling turned to pinching. She resisted the urge to squirm and held her arms steady.

Then, there was searing pain and she was stumbling to grip the sink with both hands. She gasped for air as if it had been knocked out of her. She blinked back tears and inspected her arms that still throbbed. Her skin was still pale and bare of feathers.

Perhaps the last several minutes Alma had been hallucinating. Though, she knew that not to be true, as the pain she felt was very real. The pain proved that her body had indeed attempted to obey her unspoken command. She carefully shrugged on her bathrobe and tipped into her bedroom. It was too much for her to think about. Especially now that the pounding in her temples had intensified.

Alma whilst brushing her hair, felt an unsettling feeling rest upon her. Like she was being watched. She carefully laid the tool on her dresser and moved to the window. The wind blew, swaying the bare trees, and disturbing the fallen leaves. But far off outside the iron fence of the property were set an of golden eyes. They were brilliant in color, almost seeming to glow in the winter night. Despite her sharp sight, she squinted to see the silhouette of the creature the eyes belonged to. She stepped back from the window with a start when she realized what she was looking at.

A wolf.


	5. I See You

A/N: Hi Everyone! Here’s chapter five! I know it has been a while since I have updated, and I do apologize. Life has a way of throwing curveballs (Ha, Ha). This chapter is short, But I do hope you all enjoy.

A/N 2: Shout out to Zazou, paintTHEworld23, l3ZAH, Lyrical-Light, itisunreal, NotebooksAndPens, Shadowmaster2323, plengpoonyapa and each guest that has reviewed “Another World”. It is encouraging and exciting to know others are interested in my story. Thank you so much!!

 

Simon watched the two teenagers conversate until dusk. This prompted them to share a kiss before returning inside.  He was unfazed by the display of affection but rather intrigued about what he learned from the oldest charge.

He crossed over the fence into the yard belonging to the Ymbryne, taking up a new hiding place behind two larger trees. He was close enough to see in the slightly parted curtain of the largest window, the oldest female charges working to prepare dinner. He frowned at the sight. He knew from prior observation that the Ymbryne took pride in caring for her charges.

_‘Whatever was on that dart made her sick’_

Simon decided that he wanted to see with his own eyes just how ill the Ymbryne had fallen. Peeking through a microscope was only telling him so much. He focused his attention to the furthest window slightly open and illuminated by soft candle light.

For a while there no movement, until finally he saw a slender silhouette slowly pass by the window. The figure was slightly hunched over as if the very act of walking was too much.

“There you are,” Simon whispered to no one. He left his current spot to move closer to the house but stayed at a careful distance. He could hear creaking and gurgling of pipes supplying water to what he assumed was a connected bathroom. He inched closer, knowing that the sounds coming from the pipes he would remain undetected. He paused next to the tiny bathroom window, it was covered by an almost sheer curtain, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination. The inner voyeur in him rejoiced.

The woman in all her glory stood under the shower spray. He could see that she was facing the spray with her head tilted back. Her long hair cascaded down her bare back stopping just short of her lush bottom. She turned her back to the spray for a bit before turning back around and twisting one of the dials. Gradually his view was blocked by steam. Swallowing a curse, he waited until the bustling pipes quieted down.

Simon stilled when he felt what could only be described as tiny electrical currents all over his body. It was nearly the same feeling he felt when he time traveled, only this sensation made his skin itch. He gasped when the sensation intensified for the briefest of moments, and then it ended as soon as it appeared. He blinked, and swiped at his nose, feeling dampness on his hand. Blood.

A smile touched his lips as he gazed at the fogged window of the bathroom. He couldn’t see what the dear Bird was doing but he could _feel_ that she was summoning her power, in the same manner she did when she transformed into a peregrine. Only this time, it felt different, more powerful. Almost as powerful as when she manipulated time. She was changing.

Simon shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold wind that bellowed around him or his own excitement but rather from the crisp, earthy, feral scent that floated to his nose. He glanced over his shoulder to beyond the fence to see a set of glowing eyes staring back at him. Eyes that were unnaturally bright in the darkness of the night. A flare of his nostrils told him that this was not only a predator, but a freak of nature just like him.

He wondered how long the wolf had been there watching and waiting beyond the fence? Surely not long as he had been there a while himself. Then he paused with a start. Had time been manipulated during short moment of the Ymbryne summoned her power?

Simon looked at the window lit by the candle and was thrilled to see the woman in question. Only she wasn’t looking at him but rather the beast lurking beyond the fence. Even in the low light he could see her sharp eyes were assessing the possible threat. She backed away from the window when realization colored her features.

The prey always recognized when a predator was near.

 


End file.
